


A Candle in the Darkest Night

by SkyLeaf



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Almost Kiss, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Mutual Pining, Pre-Breath of the Wild, Pre-Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27892906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyLeaf/pseuds/SkyLeaf
Summary: A quiet moment in the library of Hyrule Castle might, if only for a moment, be able to chase away the darkness.
Relationships: Mipha/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	A Candle in the Darkest Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for xElinielx for the BOTW Gift Exchange on Discord :)

Affected and dimmed by both the late hour as well as the occasional orange flicker of a spark drifting away from the torches, the light was little more than a faint drop against the darkness of the approaching night. Though she was still able to make out the white thread, carefully counting stitches as she, for a moment, allowed herself to focus on nothing but the repetitive nature of the work, Zelda would have been a fool not to acknowledge the fact that there was a limit to how long she could remain there, hidden from judging eyes in a corner of the library. As the elephant’s trunk gradually began to blend into the blue of the fabric, that much was apparent, but rather than giving in, Zelda merely leant further in over the table, bringing her eyes a bit closer to the project in front of her.

In the distance, the sound of wood scraping over stone alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone in the library. With how she had chosen the corner furthest away from the door to act as a momentary shield between herself and the fact that someone was sure to notice her disappearance, Zelda was fairly certain that whoever the person was, they would not notice how she could not keep her shoulders from rising up towards her ears in response to their presence. Still, it was not a fact, was not something she could prove. Much like how her mother had used to tell her that she could do anything she set her mind to, only for the sentiment to be proven false by years of journeys to sacred sites, any rash conclusion would only set her up for failure and disappointment, making it better to assume the worst and act on the idea that the source of the slow footfalls that were sent back as a faint echo by the ceiling above them would be able to see her among the shadows.

Forcing a deep breath into her lungs, Zelda left the needle halfway pulled through the fabric. The sound of the tambour frame being placed on the table in front of her felt impossibly loud against the silence around her, the footsteps pausing for a moment, giving Zelda just enough time to blink once more, making sure that every last trace of tears was gone. Despite her title and despite being the heir to a throne, there was not much she could confidently say she was able to control, but among that short list of things was her expression, a fact that gave her the courage she needed to steel herself and wait as the footsteps continued once again.

She knew who it was long before Mipha stepped over to stand next to her, the sudden twitch that ran along her left arm giving off the impression that she had been about to reach out towards the embroidery frame before stopping herself.

It was the most logical conclusion to the question of just what she was doing in the library, why she would have left the celebration and the other champions, to believe that she might somehow have come to learn about the idea of creating a visual way for them to inspire hope, but even then, as she kept her gaze carefully fastened on the silver glint of the needle, Zelda could not deny that part of her hoped that in a world where she might ask Mipha that question, she would get an answer that had nothing to do with blue fabric, measurements, and obligatory courtesy phrases.

Zelda had not been holding her breath, and still, as Mipha finally spoke, bringing an end to the silence, it felt as if she had only remembered to breathe just then.

“Are you…” for a moment, Mipha let the sentence trail off, remaining silent for just enough time for Zelda to feel her resolve to at least succeed at not giving the gossipmongers yet another reason to talk about her weaken before motioning towards the work on the table in front of them, “is that your needlepoint?”

“I—yes. It is.”

Had it been her who had stepped over to talk with the princess who had come to ask her to accept a title and a responsibility that might very well lead to her death and received such a curt answer for her troubles, Zelda was certain that it would have been enough to bring an end to any kind of energy she would be able to find.

Mipha, however, did not show any outward signs of searching for a way to bring an end to the polite conversation before it might grow to become something that could trap her there and keep her away from the celebration and the other champions. Instead, Zelda caught the beginning of a smile as a moment of weakness proved enough to make her look away from a spot directly in front of her and instead look up at Mipha as she nodded at her.

“It is beautiful.”

It was a small praise and most likely one that came from how Zelda knew better than to believe that Link would not have confided in her and told her about how she had struggled with her tears as the cold weather and the feeling of his gaze at the back of her head forced her out of the icy waters of the Spring of Courage, but even then, it was enough to momentarily chase away the coldness of the empty library.

“Thank you.” and then, despite how Zelda had been sure that she would give Mipha the short nod and the silence she could use to leave her again, she heard herself continue. “But I—I think that, truly, that is all due to the beauty of Vah Ruta and the brilliance of the Sheikah. After all, they are what gave me the subject for this.”

“Oh.” Zelda heard how Mipha took a step closer towards her, the sound of her footfalls against the stones below them amplified by the frantic rhythm of her heart, and felt how Mipha’s fin brushed against her arm as she placed her hand on the table, tilting her head to the side. “Yes, I see that now.” a short chuckle that might almost have sounded sincere had it not been for how Zelda could not possible have failed to miss how Mipha’s gaze kept on flickering towards her before she once again directed her attention towards the piece of cloth in front of them filled the air. “I fear that I have come to rely too much on the glow of the luminous stones back in Zora’s Domain, but yes, I see that now.”

“If it is any consolation, during the last hour, I too have found myself bringing my eyes closer and closer to my work to be able to make out the stitches,” Zelda offered.

Seeing Mipha look away from the halfway finished shape of Vah Ruta to instead send her a tiny smile was almost enough to bring Zelda to forget about how that would surely be the moment where Mipha would be able to leave with the knowledge that she had done her duty, that she had made an effort at seeking out the princess of Hyrule, carrying a conversation for a couple of minutes, and exchanging the expected pleasantries that were expected of them. However, for as much as she wanted to fully banish the thought of Mipha leaving from her mind, she was not nearly naïve enough to keep herself from being acutely aware of the fact that the seconds that stood between the two of them and the moment where Mipha would excuse herself and head back to her conversation with the rest of the newly appointed champions were dwindling.

“I…” Mipha paused for a second, “I take it that you… that you are making some kind of tapestry then—some kind of proof of the plan that has brought us all here, one showing the four Divine Beasts?”

The question seemed simple enough, one Zelda should know how to answer, and even then, as Zelda opened her mouth, rather than answering her immediately, she found herself remaining silent as she noted the way Mipha’s voice had changed slightly halfway through the sentence, gaining an edge that appeared so unlike the usual softness of her voice. It was not disappointment, that much, Zelda was able to say with more certainty than she had been able to feel for a while, but as she sat there, trying her best to figure out the answer, only for her to lack the exact word to define just what had changed, she knew that it was close to the answer, perhaps closer than she was able to fathom.

However, even though Zelda was fairly sure that she would have been able to figure out the answer to the question of just why Mipha had looked away from her, why her voice had changed, if given enough time, that did not change the fact that she had yet to answer the question Mipha had said out loud.

Trying her best to discreetly clear her throat, Zelda could only hope that no matter what the reason for the change between them was, she was not about to inadvertently make it worse. “Not quite. I… it was actually supposed to be a secret, but given your involvement with the plan this will be a part of, I am sure that you—as well as the other champions, of course—are an exception to that rule.” trying her best not to let the gesture be seen as her clutching for something to hold onto, something to give her a sense of control, despite how she knew that to be the reason for why her knuckles turned white as she grabbed the tambour frame, Zelda quickly flattened the fabric that was hanging from the frame, trying her best to arrange it so that the stitches and the edges of the cloth would be visible along with the fastening she had attached to the sides of the sash.

At her side, she heard Mipha let out a tiny gasp. After that, anything she could have said would have been more than Zelda could have hoped for, and still, Mipha tore her gaze away from the piece of clothing in front of them to look up at her. “A uniform?”

“Yes,” Zelda heard herself say, her voice sounding strangely distant, before she thought to correct herself, “well, it is not exactly a uniform per se, or at least it is not an official marker of your status as champions. Really, if anything, I suppose that it is more like a show of unity, if you will. I… my father—he suggested that, given the increase in monster activity near most of the major villages, the citizens of Hyrule would need someone to look to for hope and that that hope might be strengthened if they see that we will be united in our battle against the approaching calamity.”

“I see.” much like Zelda had done moments before, it appeared that Mipha searched for the right words for another second, looking from her and back down at the sash a couple of times before she continued. “But I take it that creating an article of clothing with our Divine Beast embroidered on for us to wear was your idea, correct?”

Zelda bowed her head. In the face of a direct question, there was nothing to do other than to admit the truth. “Yes, it was my idea. Really, it took a while to convince my father that it would have the intended effect; he feared that it might be a little too juvenile with the Divine Beasts, that I ought to spend my time more wisely.” she did not add the rest of that sentence. There would have been no need for it, not with how Mipha would surely already have heard of how, unlike her, Zelda was still struggling with accessing the powers that should have been given to her by the goddess on the day of her birth.

“Oh,” Mipha said, and for a moment, that appeared to be the end of what Zelda might have been optimistic enough to believe might be a friendly conversation a couple of years ago, Mipha reaching out towards the stitches making up Vah Ruta’s trunk. The way she cleared her throat was the first sign that Zelda had been too quick to assume the worst, the way she looked almost like she had to steel herself and search for courage before she spoke being the second. “You know, it reminds me a bit of a tradition from back home in the Domain. I don’t know if you have heard about it, but, essentially, Zora princesses will create a piece of armour to give to the one they intend to marry.”

As Mipha fell silent, Zelda knew that it was an offer for her to respond rather than a sign that she was waiting for her chance to wish her luck in her attempts at reaching her powers, and although the flames of the torches were so far away that they was minutes away from no longer being able to push through the cover of shadows that descended upon them as the light of day faded away, a warm feeling in her chest accompanied the realisation as she nodded at Mipha. “Yes, I have heard about that. When the Domain faced the threat of Lizalfos having begun to grow in numbers, the king planned to go out to face them, and, fearing for his life, the queen wove one of her scales into his armour, saving his life as it blinded a Lizalfos that had been about to deliver a fatal blow.”

“Huh.” had it not been for the warmth in Mipha’s voice, Zelda could only imagine how quick she would have been to interpret the surprise that flickered over her face as a sign that she found her retelling of the legend unfinished and without eloquence, but now, Mipha simply smiled down at her as she continued. “To be honest, that is a legend I would not have expected anyone other than historians to know. It is, after all, a tale that is quite old—but then again,” her smile became wider as Zelda’s cheeks grew warmer, making her grateful for the cover the darkness around them provided her with, “if anyone were to know about it, it would have to be you.”

“I—” the legend had been detailed in one of the books she had used to seek refuge from the world around her during the first week following her mother’s death. Most likely, it could be found within that very room if they were to look for it. However, even though Zelda could not ignore the part of her that instinctively tried to find a way to deflect the compliment, she could not bring herself to say anything that might cause Mipha’s smile to dim and for her to step away from her, to remind her of all the reasons she had to head back to the celebration and those who wished to congratulate and thank her for having accepted the title of champion. Instead, Zelda bowed her head. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome!” if Mipha had noted the seconds of silence that had marked her response, she did not show it, instead letting her voice drop to a whisper, the way her eyes still sparkled as she leant in towards Zelda removing any idea of what she was about to say being as secret as it might otherwise have made it seem. “It is meant to signify love and the will to protect. However, with how demanding the act of creating the armour is, I have to say that the tradition might just as well be one meant to ensure that once Zora princesses find the one they wish to marry, the emotion that lead them to that point will be love rather than limerence, that they will have time to think it through so that they will not act on a rash decision.”

It was a sentiment Zelda could understand, one that demanded for people to inspect the situation from different angles and continue to ask themselves if they had gathered enough information to fully understand the gravity of their decision. However, where she might have nodded along and tried to explain all of that to Mipha without stumbling over the words if she had been able to ignore the implications of what she was telling her, now, Zelda simply felt the warmth that had filled her chest disappear in an instant, leaving behind only the feeling of her blood having become ice as she tried her best not to let her voice tremble, to make it sound like she was merely making an attempt at continuing the conversation, as she spoke. “Oh. I take it that you have begun working on a piece of armour yourself?”

Mipha could have remained quiet, and Zelda would still have got her answer. That much became clear as Mipha looked from her, towards the tambour frame, pulling her arms closer towards her as if she too was feeling the cold for the first time as she slowly let her gaze land on Zelda again, something Zelda could not quite name making her smile look forced and unsure as she shook her head. “No, not yet. I mean… with how it would be made specifically for the one I intend to marry, the creation of the armour would require me to… to talk with them or at least think of another way to get their measurements, and…” Mipha glanced away from her, leaving Zelda to look up at how the occasional spark allowed the ornamental jewellery to glimmer in the darkness as Mipha looked straight ahead, “I fear that when it comes to discussing my feelings with the one I would love to create the armour for, I find myself lacking the courage required to do so.”

The act of reaching out towards the embroidery frame was not the result of a conscious decision. Really, if anything, as Zelda once again grabbed onto the needle, holding onto it so tightly that she could almost convince herself that the metal was the source of the coldness, it felt more like an instinctive need to have something to at least try to distract herself with as she searched for something to say, pushing the needle through the fabric and letting the thread be pulled along with it over and over again as she heard her voice echo around her. “I can understand that. I think that you could have used the same words to describe me as well without having been too far away from the truth.”

“Really?” Mipha turned around, looking down at her as Zelda found herself moving closer to the centre of Vah Ruta, the needle dragging white thread along with it as she methodically made her way towards the spot where she had seen Vah Ruta lower part of its machinery to allow its pilot to enter.

Once again, Zelda was left with the feeling that there was something there, something she might have been able to reach out and sense, perhaps name, if she had only had the courage and the confidence to do so. Perhaps it would have given her the answer to the question of why Mipha was looking down at her with an almost hopeful expression on her face, why her heartbeat felt like a drum in her ears, or why the air around her felt heavy with everything she had yet to tell her, making her struggle with the feeling of being unable to force enough air into her lungs.

She could have told her. It would have been easy, a matter of simply opening her mouth and confessing to her, telling her why she had seemed distracted during the feast, that it was not something that could fully be explained by the feeling of being the only one who had yet to prove herself. Rationally, that was what Zelda could tell herself, and so, that was what she did, but even then, it was not enough to drown out the fear that she might have miscalculated and misread Mipha’s actions, regarding an attempt at reaching out to the princess who was rumoured to be the beginning of Hyrule’s downfall as more than the display of kindness that it was. It was not enough to make Zelda forget about how she had stumbled over her words back in the great hall, how Urbosa had placed a hand on her shoulder, the attempt at reminding her that she would be right there for her only serving to remind Zelda of how everyone would whisper about her if she were to say anything, or how she had read poems about love and found herself trying to imitate the words and the cadences of the stanzas, but found herself lacking that indefinable part that made it unique.

The decision not to tell her, to let the silence grow until it filled the room and made Mipha look away from her once again, was not one based on facts. Instead, it was based on the fear of giving the people around her yet another reason to whisper about her in the hallways of Hyrule Castle. Still, even though she would have loved to believe it, Zelda knew that the reason for why her stomach felt like it had been replaced with a stone was not the irrationality of her decision, but rather the fact that she was the reason for why Mipha refused to meet her gaze as Zelda tried to salvage what little might be left of the warmth that had been in the air between them before.

“Yes, really.” a laugh that sounded hollow even to herself was not enough to try to repair the cracks in the façade she had carefully constructed around herself, but that did not keep Zelda from trying. “I know, I know, it has been less than a month since I last visited the Spring of Courage, and still, Hylia has not blessed me with that attribute. To be honest, I am halfway surprised that I have not heard that particular complaint uttered yet despite all the other rumours.”

Mipha flinched. The movement was tiny, barely there, but it was enough to let Zelda know that it was as she had feared. Mipha had come to learn about the rumours about her inability to accomplish what every other princess that had come before her had done and find the power within herself that would be essential in the battle against Ganon.

“Zelda, I—”

A sharp pain bloomed in the pulp of her right index finger, Zelda finding herself letting out a hiss of pain, interrupting Mipha, as she looked down to see how her failure to pay attention had caused her to prick herself. Even in the fraction of a second that had passed, a drop of blood had already formed around the grey metal of the needle, Zelda pressing her lips together as she yanked the needle back and shoved both the embroidery frame as well as the sash away with her left hand before using her thumb to apply pressure to the tiny wound.

At her side, Zelda was all too aware of how Mipha first reached out towards her, looking almost like she was about to simply grab onto her hand the way Zelda had wished that she might do, before bringing the movement to a sudden end, the jerk of her hand letting Zelda know how sudden and how conscious the decision not to touch her was as Mipha pulled out the chair next to her, bringing herself down to a level where not even the darkness around them would be enough to hide the fact that the blood was beginning to trickle down Zelda’s finger.

For a moment, Zelda could almost believe that Mipha might have noticed her attempts at keeping it secret and made the decision to allow her to do that, but then, her voice shaking slightly, Mipha brought an end to both the silence and the idea of that happening with a simple observation. “You are hurt.”

“It isn’t that bad. Besides, the needle has just been cleaned. I just needed to make sure that I would not get blood on the fabric. Trust me, within a couple of hours, this will have stopped bleeding.”

“I…” with how Mipha turned to look away from her, Zelda might almost have missed how her gaze rested on her until the very moment where Mipha fully turned from her had it not been for how that minute detail could not have felt more monumental if it had come in the form of more than a heavy silence marking the seconds before Mipha squared her shoulders, the ornaments on her shoulders rising as she took a deep breath and gestured towards Zelda’s hand. “I know that, Zelda. I know that… with a couple of hours, it will be fine. Still… may I?”

The logical thing to do was to say no, to push away everything and heed her father’s warning that she could not allow anything to come between her and her understanding of the importance of fully dedicating herself to her prayers. It was what the princess of Hyrule should have done and the decision the perfect heir would have made in a heartbeat. Perhaps that was why Zelda felt herself hesitate, the fact that she could recall the sinking feeling of turning around a corner to see the maids step away from one another, their red cheeks and the way they refused to look at her betraying how they had been whispering about her. That could be the reason, just as it could be an incorrect conclusion. Really, the explanations for her actions were innumerable, but right then, Zelda was able to, even if only for a moment, let go of the need to analyse and dissect the situation around her and act.

“Of course you may.” the words were a whisper, her voice low and steady, completely unlike the staccato of her heartbeat that Zelda could hear echo in her ears.

Mipha heard her all the same. For a moment, it appeared almost like she would step away, draw back and return to the celebration in the great hall to escape from the flicker of lights and the growing shadows around them, but then, a tiny nod that would surely have gone by unnoticed by anyone other than the two of them marking the change, she leant in towards her.

Her touch was soft as she took Zelda’s injured hand in hers, holding it between her palms, and even then, Zelda found that she could focus on nothing but the way Mipha was right there, mere centimetres separating them as she looked from her hand and up at her, her gaze flickering down for a moment as she closed her eyes.

The warmth came not as a feeling of being about to burn, of knowing her cheeks and ears were bright red and that her embarrassment was on display to the entire court and country. It did not bloom in her chest, reminding her of how, if she had been born just a generation earlier, in a time without a prophecy, she might have been able to act on it and lean in to close the last bit of distance. Instead, the warmth washed in over her, feeling just like the pull of waves in the ocean, granting her just enough control to know that, as long as she did not go too far out, she would be able to swim back to the shore.

Between them, above their clasped hands, Zelda could see how Mipha’s magic manifested as long ribbons of pure light. Curling around their hands, the light shifted, different nuances rising to the surface to cast a rainbow of colours onto Mipha’s face as Zelda caught herself looking away from how Mipha brushed a thumb over the back of her hand to instead take in the way a slight crease formed between Mipha’s brows as the last bit of pain melted away, the skin around the puncture wound closing once again.

Zelda had seen first-hand the extent of Mipha’s power. Next to how she had brought back a Zora captain from the brink of death only a month ago, this had to be nothing to her, and still, as Mipha opened her eyes again, Zelda heard how she let go of the breath she had been holding the entire time, her voice sounding breathless as she opened her mouth twice before being able to force out the words. “Zelda, I…” just as she had done before, and just as Zelda had done countless times in the past, Mipha fell silent.

Too afraid of moving and bringing Mipha’s attention to the fact that she was still holding onto her hand, Zelda sat still and waited as Mipha swallowed, her eyes moving from her face and down to their hands. As she had feared, Mipha’s eyes widened, the apology clear in her eyes as she withdrew her hands.

“I—”

“Thank you,” Zelda said, interrupting the apology. She should have said more if she wished to cling onto the warmth of the magic, that much was clear to her, but right then, it was all she knew how to say.

Perhaps Mipha could see that, or at least, that seemed to be the case as she sent her a soft smile, raising her hand to reach out towards her. Her fingers brushed against Zelda’s cheek, the touch lasting for a fraction of a second, but Zelda could still feel how her magic moved through her, healing the tiny scrapes on her elbows from where she had fallen while travelling through the Faron Woods to get to the Spring of Courage, the tiny burn on her leg she had been given when her latest experiment had failed, resulting in the Guardian’s laser misfiring, the fact that they had not been able to figure out the mechanics of the energy it would be imbued with being what had kept the extent of the injury to such a small burn. As the skin mended itself, erasing all evidence of those moments, Mipha did not look away from her, waiting for another moment before she let her hand fall down to rest against her side again.

Neither of them said anything. Zelda would not have been able to say how long the silence lasted for, if it was a matter of seconds or perhaps years, if she should have begun to question why no one seemed to wonder where Mipha was. All she could say for certain was that she would have been content to stay there and simply take in the way Mipha smiled at her, the corners of her lips angling upwards as her knees brushed against Zelda’s right leg.

“I believe in you.” Mipha said the words, breaking through the silence. Had she said it in any other moment, back at the feast, during one of Zelda’s visits to Zora’s Domain, Zelda was sure that she would have written it off as a well-meaning lie, an attempt at making her feel better, but now, she could only sit there and listen as Mipha added. “I know that you—that you must have heard so many rumours about you… I would lie if I were to say that I have not heard any of them as well, but for what it is worth, I want you to know that there are people who believe in you, and that I am one of them.”

“I suppose it means that one of us has faith in my ability to perform my duties.” her voice did not tremble. The fact that she was sure to prove Mipha wrong someday was something Zelda had had enough time to acknowledge and repeat to herself to allow her to keep her emotions hidden away as she spoke.

However, where Zelda knew that her expression did not betray the fear that her inability to do as everyone who had come before her had done might be what would doom them all or the inexplicable joy that came with hearing Mipha confess that she believed in her, she saw all the emotions that flickered across Mipha’s face as clearly as if she had felt them herself, pain, sadness, joy, and pride all present as Mipha’s hand twitched slightly, almost making it seem like she would have reached out towards her once again, only for Mipha to avert her gaze. In that moment, right before she looked away, an expression Zelda could not name glimmered in her eyes.

She had halfway expected for that to be the reason for Mipha’s silence, for her to have looked away to give herself a chance to regain her composure, but as Mipha sat up straight again, meeting her gaze, it was still there, barely hidden in her eyes as she looked directly at her.

“If that is so, then I will just have to continue to believe in you for both of us. I have enough faith in your abilities—both as a princess and as a scholar—to allow it to count for both of us, even if you seem incapable of understanding the reasons for my confidence.”

There was a challenge to the way she spoke. Zelda could sense that, something unspoken that seemed to compel her to tilt her head to the side and lean in.

For a heartbeat, she could see how it would happen, how Mipha would close her eyes and mirror her reaction. It would have been easy, a matter of letting go of what was holding her back, and maybe that was the exact reason for why she could not bring herself to do it. There were people who were sure to begin looking for Mipha in just a moment. There was a celebration meant to honour Mipha and the other champions. There were numerous reasons Zelda could have used if she wished to explain to herself why she could not bring herself to let that idea become reality.

Perhaps it was a sign that even if she had not fully been able to cut the strings that held her back, she was at least able to recognise their existence that she did not try to lie to herself as she let the tiny movement she had found the courage for become a hug, Zelda bringing her arms around Mipha and leaning against her. As Mipha did the same, allowing her head to rest against Zelda’s shoulder, Zelda knew that even if she could have done more, in that moment, it was what they had both needed.

“Thank you,” Zelda repeated. There was no reason to specify just what she wished to thank Mipha for, not as Mipha brought an end to the hug, rising from her chair to cast one last glance down at her.

Illuminated only by the dim light of the torches, she sent her a small smile, the joy shining through in her eyes. “I… I have to go; they will be wondering where I am in just a moment.”

For once, there was no disappointment that called for her to try to mask her emotions as Zelda bowed her head. “I understand.”

A second passed, Mipha looking like she was caught between the need to say something more and the fact that both of them had to be aware of the fact that the conversation, if it could be called that, had already lasted for far longer than the need Zelda felt to reach out and try to convince her to stay would indicate. And then, sending one last smile her way, Mipha turned around and left once again, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the library as Zelda looked after her, following her path back to the stairs at the other side of the room with her eyes. Soon enough, the sound of doors falling shut filled the room, leaving Zelda behind with only the tambour frame and her thoughts, but for once, neither of those things felt like a punishment for her incompetence.

Lifting her right hand, Zelda let her fingers come to rest against the spot on her cheek where she could still recall the sensation of how Mipha had let her magic flow through her and find the hidden wounds as she looked back down at the embroidered image of Vah Ruta.

The thread was still pristine, white and sharp against the solid blue backdrop of the fabric. Picking up the needle once again, Zelda sat down, stitches and numbers soon fading into the sound of her heartbeat and the feeling of having Mipha hold her hand, look up at her, brush her hand against her cheek, and tell her that she believed in her as she began to, with the needle and the thread, create the finishing touches for the tiny image of Vah Ruta.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally planned for this to be VERY fluffy, but, in the end, it became angstier than what I had planned for it to be. Still, I hope that you like it, xElinielx :D


End file.
